Runner: The Prophecy
by Kevin Raynor
Summary: The story of Ron's role in Harry's destiny, and how he has an even greater destiny to himself. I started this for a challenge long ago, until I realized I only had a week left. Tell me if you think it should be finished, this one's for the fans.


  
**Runner-**  
T h e Prophecy

"There was a prophecy... a man who would lose everything, become his own enemy, and still fight on... he is the destiny... he will stop the evil..." -The Prophecy-

It was a dark and stormy night... In the middle of a near-flooded road... A dark figure kneels over a lump on the ground... the lump is a person...  
"Harry... I'm sorry," the figure sobs, "I never knew it would come to this... I never knew this would happen."  
"It's... not...," the person on the ground attempts to make out. "You ma... you made some mistakes... Ron... it's not your faul...t. yeewww caan stiiillllll stop... this... there... iss a wa-"  
Unable to continue, the figure rolls over, dead. His head rolls to the right... his face made visible... his name is Harold James Potter.  
A third figure walks out from the darkness... his face hidden by a dark hood. "Why?" the voice speaks. It is not a spoken voice. It is a low, hiss-like voice heard in our heads. It is Voldemort's voice. "Why must you act like that?" the voice says with disgust, "I tell you to murder someone, you do so, and then you weep for him, like the sorry little whiner that wormtail was."  
"It is true." the first figure says. " It is true that you indeed are no longer human. you no longer feel."  
"so?"

*FLASHBACK*

"To tell you the truth, I really don't know how I survived it" Harry was saying, "Dumbledore thinks it has something to do with my mother's sacrifice. It is a sort of magic beyond out thinking. Controlled by our emotions..."

*PRESENT*

The figure stands up, turns to face his longtime master... He feels it coming on...

*FLASHBACK*

I never told Dumbledore this, he figured it out anyway." Harry continued, "this...'emotion magic' is what happened when I blew up my aunt... I told you about that, didn't I?"

*PRESENT*

It flows through him, powered by his anger.  
The Voice chuckles.

*FLASHBACK*

"It isn't always exactly what you want it to be, but it is nevertheless effective. Very effective"   
-Dumbledore-

*PRESENT*

It flowed through Him... it empowered him...  
He rushed at Voldemort, his skin almost seeming to glow. His speed... Inhuman. His strength... beyond reality. As he hit Voldemort, what was least expected out of either of them happened. He never really understood the flow of magic, he merely accepted that no human had the natural ability to summon magic on his own, only with the augmenting aid of a talisman, most often a wand. He never believed in natural magical ability.  
But that was what indeed happened. Ron plowed into Voldemort with all his strength and beyond... a power that he did not understand. In a mass of painful screams of agony and blinding light, his energies consumed Voldemort, Voldemort was taken, swallowed. Voldemort, finally was truly... Dead. But not without cost. The power of human emotions was never meant for evil. it was never meant to vanquish your enemy, it was meant to save you. He had risked his life using the magic, but he succeeded. However, from then on, he would be incapable of summoning any form of magic of his own. Not even a wand would help him now.  
Ronald Weasley was unarmed, powerless, and hunted by the wizarding world. And so the running began...

*THREE MONTHS EARLIER*

"Where have you been?" asked Harry, looking rather pissed. Ron had just walked into the 4-room apartment that they had owned together since their Hogwarts graduation four 1/2 years ago. Hermoine had come to visit for the first time in two months, and Harry had spent quite a while preparing a large dinner. To his embarrassment, she had done most of the cooking from the moment she arrived.

*FLASHBACK*

"You really should read some cookbooks, Harry," Hermoine joked, "There's plenty out there." Although she had somewhat broken her bookworm habit, she still liked to tease people about it. The had gotten plenty in teasing her.

*PRESENT*

They had had dinner at 9:00, two hours after they had planned. They had waited a whole hour waiting for Ron, while the food got cold, then spent another hour calling authorities, wondering if something had happened. It was now past midnight, and Hermoine had long since gone to bed on the convertible couch in the extra bedroom.

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Author's note-the kitchen and living room are in one room, the main entrance being in the kitchen area. It is counted as one room. the other three rooms are all bedrooms.  
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Ron, although he hid it, was rather worn out. He had completely forgotten about Hermoine, and knew that even that would have been no excuse to get away from where he was. He had been through Hell and back, except the 'Hell' was his doing.

*FLASHBACK*

"Yes, master," Ron said in a zombie-like voice, kneeling before a tall hooded figure. "I will do what you wish, and I will not fail."  
"I do not wish to hear your blabbering. Carry out your orders," says The Voice

Ron stepped outside into a dark, cold field. behind him, he had just come out of a small cabin, most likely built for a farm hand. As he moves away from it, a flame is seen. It quickly, yet steadily, grows larger, hotter, and consumes the cabin and all evidence of his presence there.  
His orders where simple; The Council, the inner government of most organized Dark Arts, had spoken. In order to gain control over a small section of London, Ron was sent to assassinate the leader of a local wizarding gang, respected only for the fact that they refused to be represented and controlled by The Council. Simple enough, right? No one would miss HIM. But what would happen would forever change Ron's ultimate destiny.

"Hey, who's that?"  
"Dunno, man. Maybe a lost muggle?" This comment draws small chuckles from the group, which seems to consist of about twelve people.  
"What should we do 'bout 'im, boss?"  
"Ah, leave 'im be. I got a visit from the 'pleece and the Ministry Department of Parole in one day. I don't want no trouble."  
"Too bad." All look up at the newcomer, who has drawn his wand.  
"Esplodeaos."  
A gigantic shockwave erupts from the end of his wand, knocking everyone, except their attacker, to the ground.  
In the blink of an eye, thirteen people have drawn their wands, one standing, and twelve crouched low.  
"Avada Kederva."  
A blast of green light erupts from the newcomer's wand, and hits the leader square in the face. All However, the person who just murdered their leader has disappeared.

Ron tore through the darkness, dodging multi-colored beams of light, coming from the wands of his chasers. He slowed down, to throw two more mass hexes back behind him, then kept running.  
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Author's note-a mass hex is a spell with a bomb-like affect: it affects anyone within a certain radius.  
__________________________________________________________________

"Stupefy!"  
Ron was hit, a bull's-eye in the back. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

When he awoke, he was battered, bruised, cut, and his left leg was broken twice. with the exception of a few severe bruises, he cleared it all up with some simple first-aid spells, and limped his way home. Fixed or not, the pain still lasted.

*PRESENT*

"I-I'm sorry. I, uh completely lost track of time...," He started, but...  
"Save it." Harry said coldly, "I'm goin-are you limping?" he asked suspiciously.  
"It's nothing. Go to bed. I don't need any pity right now." Ron said.  
The truth was, however, he had to think. He had blown his cover and created quite a commotion. Besides that, there had been a time lapse of a whole hour. No way a basic stunner could last like that. The council would not be happy. Forget the council, his orders had come from Voldemort himself! He was likely to be tortured, maybe even killed.

*12 HOURS LATER*

"You WHAT?" The Voice demanded. It was a new voice this time, but nevertheless, the all-powerful trademark voice that spoke the will of the council, and Voldemort. "You cannot even take care of a simple gangster, the filth of the streets? you are a pathetic fool. Report to the meeting of the high council Wednesday next. We will...discuss your punishment there."

*WEDNESDAY FOLLOWING THE INCIDENT*

"The time has come 


End file.
